


In His Eyes

by Blame Canada (OneHitWondersAnonymous)



Series: South Park Drabble Bomb: May 2017 [2]
Category: South Park
Genre: Drabble, I Figure Crenny Could Use Some Flowery Tho, M/M, Prompt Fic, Short One Shot, Way Too Flowery, Way Too Much Prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 11:18:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11012358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneHitWondersAnonymous/pseuds/Blame%20Canada
Summary: "Maybe, in this same light, the fire in his eyes would spread to Craig’s, and he would look less like a lifeless prop and more like a blazing brush fire, like the one they watched from the top of a hill."Submission for the second day of the May 2017 South Park Drabble Bomb: Fire.





	In His Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for the prompt "Fire" from the May 2017 South Park Drabble Bomb! Information about the Drabble Bomb is at the url @spdrabblebomb if you're interested. This is very short but I like to cross-post everything from Tumblr for my own organization, really. Enjoy!

“You know,” he began, his eyes as bright as the embers he spoke of so dearly, “I think it’s a little terrifying, like this.”

His face betrayed him, however, because there was nothing in it but a primal excitement, the one that only he managed to portray in a way that was as beautiful as it was chilling. 

“Why do you say that?” Craig asked, though he did not expect an answer. Silence between them was not uncommon. They spent a lot of time staring at landscapes and constellations and wordy diagrams on museum walls. More often than not the silence was fitting, and it was in that silence that they each found solace: in one another, but mostly in the stasis of the universe around them whenever they held hands or looked at one another a moment too long.

“Just a feeling,” he said, with the mischief in his eyes that meant something Craig could never put his finger on, no matter how much he tried. The ashy wind rustled their coats and disturbed the matted fur pooled over his malnourished shoulders, which he’d tugged down most certainly on purpose to reveal milky white skin, to entice him. He scoffed internally at the thought; it didn’t take bait like a lovingly bruised collarbone to bed him, and he knew that. He just liked games, and anything could be a game, Craig had come to discover. He both hated and loved it, despised the uncertainty but adored the spontaneity. 

Maybe, in this same light, the fire in his eyes would spread to Craig’s, and he would look less like a lifeless prop and more like a blazing brush fire, like the one they watched from the top of a hill. The firefighting crews had yelled at them to evacuate hours ago, but if he felt no danger, then Craig wouldn’t either. He just always knew these things, and he would know when it was time to go. Somehow, within all of the ridiculously dangerous things that he got him into, Craig always felt safe at his side. Maybe it was his confidence, something that was silent but strong in a way not unlike a stern but protective father, something he certainly never learned from his own. Maybe it was his stature, the way he held himself high despite how short he’d been stunted by the infinitesimal meals he’d endured while the boys around him shot up like bean stalks. Craig towered over him now, but sometimes, he felt unfathomably small beside him.

“Let’s go,” he said, and Craig complied, because he always knew when it was really time to evacuate, when things got too close, when he was just barely behind the invisible line of imminent danger. The radios of the firemen were close enough now that they could hear the crunching of their voices and the blades of helicopters above. Their mortality was close, so very close, but Craig felt so painfully alive, and that was why he indulged in his games. 

“Kiss me,” he said, and Craig surrendered. 


End file.
